


24th Day of Winter - Not Another Act

by unjaundiced



Series: Winter Spirits [28]
Category: Naruto
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas, 25 Days of Fic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unjaundiced/pseuds/unjaundiced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi <i>really</i> hates plays. Too bad Iruka and Kushina need him to go to Naruto's.<br/>Set the year after It's The Thought That Counts. They're 22 and 23. Naruto's class is 7 which cues another writing style change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	24th Day of Winter - Not Another Act

_**ACT :I** _  
_**Prologue** _  
  
"No. I hate plays.” Kakashi turned a page in his book and ignored Kushina.  
  
"It's not a normal play,” his cousin protested. “It's Naruto-kun's play!”  
  
"I hate children's plays the most.” Kakashi paused. “And interpretive dances, though they're technically not plays, they're still held in theaters—mostly—I still hate plays.”  
  
"I don't care, you're going. Minato-kun and I will be a little late so someone has to walk him to the school,” Kushina ordered. “And he can't be late.”  
  
"Get Iruka then, otherwise the kid is going to be late. As in... Not-there kind of late—because I hate plays.” Kakashi turned another page and ignored his cousin's aggravated scream.  
  
  
_**SCENE :1** _  
  
"Now this? This is disgusting. I applaud this as an apt torture device.” Kakashi pointed to the playbill he was handed. A rather poorly drawn rat in a hideously pink tutu was cavorting on the cover. The corner of the picture, just under the title, proudly proclaimed that one Rock Lee, Age 8 had created it.  
  
"It's not supposed to be an instrument of torture,” Iruka grumbled, holding Naruto's hand as they walked to the school. The boy was one of the Rat Soldiers and quite proud of it. “You were once eight years old. You couldn't have done better.”  
  
"No, I couldn't have done better. I could have done _way_ better. I was graphing at a tenth grade level, I'll have you know. Fractals, now _that_ is art. This?” Kakashi tapped the paper again. “Maybe modern art. Maybe interpretive. I'm just not that into it.”  
  
"I can draw a rat!” Naruto chirped, clanking along woodenly in the costume he _insisted_ he had to wear _all_ the way to the school. Kakashi had Naruto's foam sword and cardboard scabbard strapped to his back and had promised to use it only for good, though what good the man would do with a fake sword was beyond Iruka. Naruto had seemed pleased though.  
  
"Oh? I'll bet your rat is better than this Rock Lee kid's. You just have to draw your own face. You have the whiskers already,” Kakashi teased, poking a finger at one of Naruto's strange birthmarks. It was the result of an odd expression of hyper-pigmentation but had not seemed to affect him negatively aside from the unfortunate occasional bully. Naruto had largely grown accustomed to it and sometimes even appreciated it.  
  
"Yeah! My rat would be the best! I'll tell him that!” Naruto shouted, jumping up.  
  
"No, don't tell him that. Just practice on your own,” Iruka butt in, glaring at Kakashi. The other man shrugged.  
  
"Whatever you want.”  
  
  
**_SCENE: 2_ **  
  
"There's Sasu-teme!” Naruto suddenly shouted, running forward with the angriest expression Kakashi had ever seen on a kid before. Iruka pulled him back before he got too far and Kakashi frowned, disappointed. He wanted to see what was going to happen.  
  
"Mah, want to ease up on that leash there, mama?” Kakashi arched out of the way as Iruka took a swipe at him.  
  
"I vaguely remember you spending quite a lot of time helping Naruto-kun make his armor. You wouldn't want to see it broken, would you?” Iruka suggested with so much sweetness that Kakashi had to wonder what the catch was.  
  
"I still have the sword and that's basically the whole outfit right there,” Kakashi defended. “He can go pick a fight if he likes.”  
  
"How about _I_ pick a fight with you right now? Then we can see how useful that sword of yours really is!” Iruka felt himself being pulled to the side as Naruto saw more of his friends.  
  
"Iruka-nii! There's Sakura-chan too! She's the main girl because she's the coolest of all the girls and she can dance the best!” Naruto practically glowed, jumping up and down with excitement as they entered the building. Iruka nodded and waved at the girl.  
  
"And Kaka-nii! There's Chouji-kun! He's the King Rat's father! He gets to sit on the big throne for the _whole_ play!” Naruto pointed at a chubby boy with a rat nose on his head. Kakashi had a sudden moment of déjà vu and the rat nose became Gai's rather obnoxious carrot nose. He shuddered.  
  
"The Rat King has a father in the play?” he mused aloud. “I didn't know that. Tchaikovsky would be appalled at the liberties that have been taken here.”  
  
"It's a play for the primary school students. They need to make sure everyone has a part, now shut up.” Iruka growled.  
  
  
_**SCENE: 3** _  
  
Kakashi stood backstage—as backstage as a children's play could afford anyhow—and tried to stay out of the way. A grouchy looking Sasuke stood next to him, shiny tin crown crooked on his head. Sasuke had his hand on the sword strapped to his belt and looked as if he was afraid thieves might come to make off with it.  
  
"At ease, soldier,” Kakashi murmured, patting the boy's head to gain his attention. “If you made your moves known to the enemy, he will know best where to attack. To make yourself defenseless is to make yourself invulnerable.”  
  
Sasuke looked up at him blankly. “What?”  
  
Kakashi huffed. “Take your hand off your sword, it's not going anywhere. And stop being so stiff. You're making me uncomfortable.”  
  
"Why didn't you just say that then,” the boy grumbled, grudgingly taking his hand off his sword.  
  
"Kids these days,” Kakashi whined. “So shallow.”  
  
"Tch. Whatever.” Sasuke crossed his arms and ignored him.  
  
"Mah, rude too.”  
  
  
**_INTERLUDE_ **  
  
"Finally!” Kakashi sighed happily, sinking into the plush cushions. He kicked up his feet and pulled out his trusty orange book, opening it to his bookmarked page so he could read the scene where Kenji and Yuri—  
  
The book was snatched from his grasp and he was left staring blankly at the wall. He looked up into Iruka's glowering face and closed his eyes, smiling broadly.  
  
"Mah, fancy meeting you here,” Kakashi chirped, grimacing as he felt his ear being pinched.  
  
" _You_ are supposed to be in the auditorium.” Iruka growled as he hauled the older man to his feet. “ _Not_ hiding out in the infirmary!”  
  
"If you make me go to the auditorium, I will end up here!” Kakashi whined, leaning down to ease the pressure on his ear. “I might as well just stay here!”  
  
Iruka growled again.

  
**_ACT:2_ **  
**_SCENE: 4_ **  
  
The children were terrible singers. They were also clumsy dancers and their lines were obviously fed to them from a woman offstage. Tchaikovsky was probably rolling in his grave—or what was left of him would be.  
  
The obnoxious woman next to Kakashi kept shaking his arm and whispering loudly whenever her kid came on stage. He wasn't sure if it was a boy or girl or a bush, but he wished the woman would stop. The person in front on him—blessedly—kept holding a video camera up and obstructing his view. He rectified the situation by sliding lower in his chair until the person's head completely blocked the travesty on stage from his sight. Perfect.  
  
Iruka pinched him and glared. He made a few spastic movements that Kakashi assumed meant he wanted him to sit back up. Fortunately—or unfortunately—for Iruka, Kakashi learned long ago to make no assumptions in life. Thus, he stayed right where he was. He did move his arm off the armrest though. Never let it be said that Hatake Kakashi couldn't be proactive when the need arose.  
  
When Iruka reached over again, Kakashi assumed he wanted to hold hands. A sweet thought, but definitely not the right place or time. Bush-child's parent was ruining the moment. Maybe a movie later?  
  
Kakashi patted Iruka's knee and received a kick to the ankle for his trouble. Now Iruka wanted to play footsie? Man, he moved fast.  
  
  
**_SCENE: 5_ **  
  
"Sucks.” A tearing sound was heard just before a paper ball soared towards the rubbish bin in the car park. It bounced off an overhanging branch and fell on the ground.  
  
"Sucks.” A second paper ball went flying after it, this one hitting a sign.  
  
"Sucks.” A third paper ball sailed neatly in to the rubbish bin, only to fall out from a hole in the bag, popping through the wire screen and falling on the ground.  
  
"Oh my god, that _sucks_ ,” Kakashi groaned, completely out of paper.  
  
A chorus of voices echoed faintly from inside the building behind him and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, huffing. A faint cloud of white appeared in front of his nose and he entertained himself for a few minutes by experimenting with the smoke. He could see why Asuma had picked up that nasty habit of his. It was kind of fun.

He bundled his scarf higher and straightened his spine, amusing himself by goose-stepping back and forth on the sidewalk in a mock parade as he mouthed along to the children inside, saluting to a tree as he passed. He performed a few quick toe steps followed by some heavy-footed leaps and wobbled into a lopsided pirouette, surreptitiously checking to make sure no one had seen.

Tchaikovsky would be _appalled_.  
  
  
_**CODA** _  
  
"Cold.” Kakashi jumped up and down, shivering a little. He was glad no one could see him looking so lame.  
  
"Cold.” He jogged in place and did brief calisthenics. All he did was make his face colder.  
  
"Cold.” He breathed into his hands, rubbing them together before stuffing them back in his pockets. He had never really gotten into the habit of wearing fingered gloves. Ten minutes ago would have been a good time to start.  
  
"Really cold.” He was really shivering now. He couldn't deny it anymore. He sighed heavily and sat down on a bench, curling into himself and pressing his hands to his face as he blew on them again, whispering in a high and childish voice, “It's lonely out here. Is it lonely in there?” He laughed bitterly.  
  
  
_**EPILOGUE** _  
  
"Kakashi, you loveable idiot,” Iruka grumbled, draping a blanket over the pathetic looking figure. “You really are too much.”  
  
"N-not c-cold,” Kakashi mumbled, jerking with a particularly violent shiver. Iruka rolled his eyes.  
  
"Why didn't you come back inside if you were cold? You didn't have to see the play if you didn't want to,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “You just can't stand up in the middle of it and tell a mother that you think her bush child is a terrible actor and can't properly emulate a shrub.”  
  
"She was a terrible actor,” Kakashi mumbled, scowling.  
  
"Her daughter wasn't a shrub,” Iruka pointed out wryly. “She was a dryad. And I still don't know why you came out here to sulk.”  
  
Kakashi continued to frown and shifted away from him. Iruka sighed and sat beside him, rubbing his back.  
  
"You may have been wrong, but it doesn't mean you have to be alone in the cold.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on Livejournal in 2011 as part of the annual 12 or 25 Days of Christmas challenge. The story takes place by years and utilises Japanese honourifics as a necessity. I tried to use canonical names wherever possible and created original character names as needed.
> 
> Due to the conditions at the time, the writing is a bit clunky but will largely remain unedited
> 
>  **Note**  
>  There is a quote from a movie or some sort of cartoon where a little girl talks about alienation and I guess it stuck with me.


End file.
